


Love Story of a Boy

by historiologies



Series: hinterlands [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Childhood Friends, F/M, Friends to Lovers, I'm putting angst in here as a warning okay, M/M, Pining, Small Towns, Social Homophobia, it's not really internalized inasmuch as it is a societal fact of life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 23:57:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11451741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/historiologies/pseuds/historiologies
Summary: Soonyoung doesn’t remember a time when he didn’t know Wonwoo, doesn’t remember a time when he didn’t know how it felt to have Wonwoo next to him.Childhood friends AU, posted for Soonwoonet's PushxPull Fanfiction Challenge.





	Love Story of a Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aishiteita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aishiteita/gifts).



> Hello, this fic is about a month and some days late. I have no excuses. Just take it.
> 
> First of all. Thank you so much to everyone who looked at this from inception to now. Thank you especially to Juju for beta-ing the crappiest version of this and turning it into something legible--this would not be what it is without you. Thank you, ILSUM :D to Amber, Blake and Kris, for being the most encouraging and wonderful audience and helping me get over the finish line. To the rest of Soonwoonet, there are some hidden references here and there for you all. I hope you see them :)
> 
> To my clone, my sisterchild, my love. I hope this is worth your wait. I hope you like it. I hope I did your prompts justice. I hope it makes you smile, or laugh, or cry. Any of the above. I just really love you and hope you don't think this is a waste of your time, that's all!!!!! If it's overly dramatic, well, you know me. I luv the dramz.
> 
> If I made a mistake with the Korean name suffixes, I apologize. If anyone points out any errors, I will be happy to correct them.
> 
> More notes at the end, for extra information.

There’s ten seconds between the flashing lights and the crash rolling through the night sky. Wonwoo swallows, nervously, before saying that it means the thunder isn’t near enough to hurt any of them. The lights flash again and Soonyoung watches him slowly put a finger down, one by one, as he gazes out the window. He winces at the sudden clap. Eight fingers, eight seconds.

Soonyoung doesn’t want to show that he’s afraid, but he hates loud noises, hates the rumble that starts with a groan and ends with a bellow. It reminds him too much of Tuesday nights at his house, nights falling asleep with his hands pressed against his ears to keep the yelling out.

He does just that when the thunder rolls through the sky again, eyes screwed shut, the beginning of a tear in his throat. He feels arms come around him, a pointy chin jutting into his shoulder, and the knowledge that Wonwoo’s there, that Wonwoo will always be there, is what eases the tightness in his stomach, the ringing in his ears.

After the thunder comes the rain, and Wonwoo and Soonyoung press their faces against the glass and watch the heavens cry.

***

(i do not know what it is about you that closes

and opens; only something in me understands

the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)

nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

                            e.e.cummings

***

Soonyoung doesn’t remember a time when he didn’t know Wonwoo, doesn’t remember a time when he didn’t know how it felt to have Wonwoo next to him. One of his earliest memories is walking out of his house and Wonwoo stepping up beside him to poke at his chubby forearm as their mothers gossiped about the scandal between the two actors in a popular daytime drama that was in the news that morning. He remembers being irritated because he was sweating through his shirt a lot and the boy crowding him was not helping, pressing his palms against the middle of his back, where the stickiness was most uncomfortable.

When he had turned to the boy, cheeks reddened by a brewing tantrum, the boy had nodded at him and said hello. _I like trains._

He stopped at that. He liked trains too.

Whenever Soonyoung stops to think about his earliest memories of Wonwoo, he remembers a mouth set in a straight line, the knobbiest wrists, pitch-black hair falling over a furrowed brow. One day he asks Wonwoo if he remembers when they met and Wonwoo shrugs. He doesn’t exactly remember either.

That day, they’re lying on Soonyoung’s bed. Wonwoo is reading a manhwa with his head on Soonyoung’s pillow, and Soonyoung is pressed against his back, neck hooked around his shoulder. It’s a hot summer, and the heavy heady air filters through the open window.

Idly, Soonyoung traces Wonwoo’s forearm, running fingers up and down his bare skin.

 _What are you doing?_ Wonwoo murmurs.

 _Nothing,_ Soonyoung says.

In truth, he’s wondering if Wonwoo’s forearm, if Wonwoo, has always been this skinny. His frame, bony and angular, sticks out against the threadbare cotton shirt he’s wearing. Soonyoung breathes out. The electric fan in his room is steady and trained on them, but their limbs are heavy and their movement sluggish. It’s the summer before the fourth grade, and there is absolutely nothing for them to do this afternoon; it is too hot to go out and play in the streets because the afternoon sun is high and Wonwoo’s parents think the 3 o’clock sun will give him cancer.

Wonwoo chuckles at the stories he’s reading and Soonyoung feels the staccato of it against his chest. When Wonwoo really finds something funny, he always lets out deep belly laughs. The sound of it always brings a half-smile to Soonyoung’s face, even when he doesn’t even know what it is he’s laughing at. Soonyoung wonders if Wonwoo knows he laughs differently depending on the situation. Soonyoung also wonders the same of himself.

He has his face pressed into Wonwoo’s neck, chapped lips scratching at Wonwoo’s nape, and he thinks about opening his mouth and taking in a mouthful of Wonwoo’s flesh. His gums itch, so he does; he opens his mouth and feels the soft cotton give as his canines dig into the other’s skin. He tastes the salt of sweat in his mouth, seeping through the cotton to settle on his tongue.

Perhaps it’s the heat that has dulled their senses, but it is a good half-second before Wonwoo hisses and arches his back, elbow digging into Soonyoung’s solar plexus in an effort to get him to stop. _That hurts,_ he tells him.

Soonyoung relents, a heartbeat later, opening his mouth and leaning back to admire the wet spot of saliva and the indents made on Wonwoo’s shirt. His hands reach around Wonwoo’s waist. Wonwoo’s turned to his side by then, looking at him, an expression of vague irritation on his face, but Soonyoung is hugging him close, fingers tracing circles on his stomach. He apologizes, but Wonwoo tells him he knows he doesn’t mean it. He says it without any heat, however, and Soonyoung knows Wonwoo has forgiven him when he feels long fingers curl around his.

***

It’s almost midnight. Soonyoung bounces up and down on his heels, waiting anxiously. His heart is in his throat, and there are goosebumps running up his arms from where the cold hits his exposed skin.

_Boo._

Soonyoung nearly falls over the back gate, frantic; the idea that his mother had discovered that the pillows under his blanket were not him and that he, her barely-in-his-tens only child, had snuck out of bed makes him squeak a little. He clutches his chest but squints; in the shadows, he sees a shaking form leaning.

 _Not funny,_ he tells him with a scowl.

Wonwoo chuckles, offers him a sly smile; Soonyoung’s heart feels like it’s still trying to escape his body.

They whisper the plan at each other while Soonyoung has his hands braced on his knees, still trying to catch his breath. There’s an abandoned railroad track that bisects their town, and he and Wonwoo, with a handful of their friends from school, had come up with the idea of sneaking out of their houses after their parents went to bed.

_For what?_

_A show of independence. We’re almost teenagers._

_That’s a dumb reason._

_It’s still a reason._

Jihoon had rolled his eyes at that logic, but still promised to come. Junhui one-upped him and said he’d bring the beer he’d planned to steal from their refrigerator. Wonwoo said he’d tag along to make sure they wouldn’t get into trouble, but Soonyoung knew it was so _he_ wouldn’t get into trouble. He’s not exactly sure what _that_ was supposed to mean.

They tiptoe away from the shadow of Soonyoung’s house and cross the road, with the caution and fear of two boys who were supposed to be in bed but were somehow on the streets instead, keeping to the dark but being mindful of the street lamp lights dotting their way.

The plan was to meet the rest of their friends at the little nook underneath the last bend of the railroad, the part of the tracks where the steel curved into a bridge that arrowed over the river and crossed the border into the next town. To get there should have been simple, since some parts of the track slice through the low fields where their town’s supply of rice is grown, but Wonwoo and Soonyoung decide to stick to the streets, with the dim lamps and concrete paths, and take the long way there. It’s a longer route but a more familiar one, and the familiar is generally safer than the unknown.

Eventually, the street lamps dwindle; it becomes dark, so dark except where the moonlight breaks through the clouds. Soonyoung thinks about turning back every seven steps, but Wonwoo’s arm is linked through his, and Soonyoung swallows his fears.

Soonyoung wonders if there are people like robbers or murderers lying in wait out there, and he asks Wonwoo as much.

 _In our little town? I don’t think so,_ Wonwoo replies, but he doesn’t sound that sure.

They don’t meet any other person except those late night workers walking home from their jobs in the city, dropped off at the bus stops at the edge of town. Some commuters look curiously at them but they try not to meet anyone’s eye. They assure each other with a shared look that they don’t have any other family in town to catch them, but they also have neighbors, curious ones at that, so discretion was best.

They reach the small grove under the bridge without much fanfare half an hour later, and Soonyoung feels so giddy at the little act of sheer rebellion he jumps around, arms outstretched, nearly letting out a tiny howl at the moon. Wonwoo tugs his sleeves at the first sound out of his mouth and urges him back, rolling his eyes, but Soonyoung doesn’t really care. He smiles at Wonwoo, reveling in their little exercise of independence, smiles so broadly that Wonwoo is forced to shove at him playfully, hiding a tiny smile of his own. He knows that Wonwoo is feeling the same thing he is.

It’s about ten minutes later when they hear someone whispering their names harshly and they see two figures frantically scampering down the grassy knoll they came from, Jihoon’s irritated voice hissing at them to come out cutting through the companionable silence Soonyoung and Wonwoo were sharing. From their little knapsacks emerge some snacks, two cans of Cass beer, two cigarettes and a lighter that Jihoon had managed to filch from his dad’s drawer.

Soonyoung coughs a little at the sight of the cigarettes, but Wonwoo makes little impressed sounds at them. _If we’re doing this, might as well go all the way right?_ he whispers at Soonyoung later on, and Soonyoung finds he can’t find an argument against that.

He is still apprehensive.

Beer tabs are popped, and they all do a facetious little cheer as they clink the two cans together before each taking a sip. Soonyoung wonders if this will be a night they will remember for the rest of their lives, if this is the first step into adulthood that they think it will be. He hopes so. He can’t imagine going through his life without these three next to him.

 _Nasty_ , is Soonyoung’s next thought, when the flat, slightly warm liquid hits his tongue. He gulps down the beer with a shudder. From the way Jihoon’s mouth frowns slightly after he swallows, Soonyoung is sure that he feels the same, but Junhui and Wonwoo are intent on taking the longest sips they can before they’re forced to let up for air. Soonyoung smacks his lips, pondering the feeling of the liquid going down his chest in a hot little streak and wonders why grown-ups are so obsessed with the beverage. Still, when Wonwoo offers him the can to sip from again, he doesn’t refuse.

It’s five minutes and several swallows later and Soonyoung is feeling the start of a faint buzz wrapping around his temples. He scratches at his ears but the fuzziness won’t go away. He asks the rest if they’re feeling the same way, but Junhui is giggling softly, head in Jihoon’s lap while the latter is taking the tiniest sips from the can, firm look on his face, determined to finish the content. Wonwoo’s taken charge of finishing the can he and Soonyoung are sharing, and Soonyoung can’t take his eyes away from the pink dotting Wonwoo’s cheeks, small splotches of color that look like they’ve been rubbed on his very cheekbones. He wants so badly to touch them and see if they’re as warm as he thinks they are.

He ignores the way something in his chest stutters when Wonwoo scrunches his nose and wipes away his last swallow with the back of his hand. Stupid thoughts to think about.

But he thinks them anyway.

They all try their first cigarette that night. Soonyoung can’t stop coughing after he takes it in, the smoke clinging to the sides of his windpipe, but Wonwoo inhales and then exhales, looking at the wisps of smoke mixing with the fog thoughtfully.

_Imagine if we did this in some mysterious place. Like Paris. Overlooking the Eiffel Tower._

Jihoon snorts. _As if we’ll ever see anything outside of this town. Maybe Seoul, one day. Japan or Hong Kong, if you’re lucky._

 _I’d like to go to Hong Kong,_ Junhui interjects, voice light and airy.

Wonwoo shrugs. He reaches for the cigarette and takes another drag. Soonyoung watches him, the cigarette dangling from his lips, and thinks he looks like a creature of shadow. He starts to wonder if Wonwoo keeps any secrets from him.

***

Soonyoung likes kids. Whenever they had any family reunions, the parents always placed him in charge of his younger cousins, and he never minded, even when he was only fourteen and barely older than most of them. He liked to play, and kids liked to play with him, clambering all over him and asking for piggybacks.

When his mother’s sister and her family moved to their town just before middle school, they asked him if he would look after his two young cousins every so often after school and he said yes, did so without complaint. That’s what family was for right? He’d race to their house from school every Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Fridays in order to be there before they were dropped off from class, and organize little games and challenges for them until their older sister, his cousin Yeon-hee, would come home from work.

 _Thank you Soonyoungie,_ Yeon-hee would always tell him as she arrived to take over. Their parents were busy running a restaurant in the nearby town, so they would often stay late and Yeon-hee would be in charge until they closed. She always looked tired coming home from work, her job at the new department store in the next city leaving her busy and drained every day, but she never forgot to ask him about how school was, how _he_ was, and how her baby brothers treated him that day. Kind-hearted Yeon-hee, whom he had always looked up to and had always liked to be doted on by.

If she gets home when the sun has long since set, when his stomach starts to rumble from hunger, he doesn’t say a word about it, even when he barely has time to see his friends anymore. Family was family, and that was the most important thing.

Today was no exception. _How was mathematics?_ she asks as soon as she arrives, after she’s taken off her coat and shoes at the door. She had remembered he had a quiz today, and not for the first time he wonders how she could, when she was already so busy.

 _It was okay,_ Soonyoung slowly replies, thinking about whether or not he should tell her about how worried he was about his grades for the subject, but seeing her look so frazzled after rushing home stops his tongue. She doesn’t need him to add to her worries.

Her face relaxes into a sweet smile, as if she sensed his apprehension, and Soonyoung feels warm. She was always so lovely when she smiled. Soonyoung doesn’t want to tell anyone, especially his other older girl cousins, but she’s his favorite.

_You did really well when we ran through those exercises the other day. I’m sure you did well. You always do._

He hopes so.

He starts for home, politely refusing Yeon-hee’s offer to make him dinner as well as the offer to walk him to his house. It isn’t near, but it isn’t far either, and he likes the time he spends alone. Besides, his cousins should be eating soon. Yeon-hee listens to him solemnly telling her the reasons why he can walk home by himself, and ruffles his hair affectionately before sending him on his way.

The autumn breeze that picks up causes him to tug his jacket around him tighter, but it’s not unpleasant. It’s better than the heat that had been plaguing them all summer. He remembers being bothered by it when he was playing video games at Wonwoo’s, the sudden waves of heat causing his Super NES to overheat. It’s the memory of Wonwoo dancing around his game unit, fanning at it, that causes Soonyoung to realize that it’s been awhile since they’ve seen each other outside of school.

On his way home, he passes by Wonwoo’s house, dark except the light burning in the second window from the back on the upper floor—Wonwoo’s and Bohyuk’s room. Idly, Soonyoung wonders if he’s done with his geometry homework, if he’s eaten, if he’s done all his chores, including tutoring his brother in History. He wonders if he’s taking an early night, if he’s already curled up in his bed under that soft ratty blanket of his, the one his grandmother gave him, ruining his eyesight even more with one of those books without pictures Soonyoung can never really wrap his head around.

He pictures Wonwoo in his head, thinks about how much taller he’s gotten the past few months, wonders when exactly it happened because he doesn’t remember seeing it happen. What he does remember is how people at school had begun to tease Wonwoo, tease him about how his glasses and his somber expression made him look so cold and unapproachable. Wonwoo had flushed red when one of their friends laughed while telling them about it and Soonyoung remembers thinking about how preposterous that sounded because whenever he looks at Wonwoo all he feels is warm, the kind of warm that seeps into every crevice of your being, because that’s the way the Wonwoo he knows makes him feel, the Wonwoo who crinkled his nose at funny comic strips, the Wonwoo who got so fixated on games he’d stare at his screen with his mouth open until he choked on air, the Wonwoo who wouldn’t snack on anything but vegetable crackers, the Wonwoo who rubbed his back when he was so upset about not doing well enough during his taekwondo presentation, the Wonwoo who cheered him on in the stands during his next one.

He looks up, thinks about throwing a small pebble against Wonwoo’s window to make him poke his head out, but he knows he shares his room with Bohyuk and he doesn’t want to disturb either of them.

He shoves his hands into his pockets and walks the last block home, trying to ignore the little nugget of something he simplifies as loneliness that’s planted itself in his chest, and thinks instead of the chicken stew that his mother cooked for them waiting for him at home.

***

It’s almost summer.

Soonyoung, Jihoon and Junhui are sitting around the school quadrangle, waiting for Wonwoo to finish his exams so they could go home together, complaining about the test the next day and the rest of the tests they have to pass before they can say they’ve finished middle school. Jihoon is fanning himself with one of his notebooks, and Junhui is sipping noisily on a juicebox next to Soonyoung. It’s orange-flavored.

Junhui nudges him and beckons him closer, a mischievous grin on his face. Soonyoung’s not quite sure he’s in the mood for Junhui’s whims at the moment, the English exam he just had dampening his mood.

Junhui tells him that Kang Eunkyung is looking at him again.

Kang Eunkyung?

Soonyoung and Jihoon follow Junhui’s line of sight to where a group of their girl classmates were sitting, whispering to each other. Kang Eunkyung, a pretty and demure girl, long black hair a waterfall over her shoulders, sits in the middle, cheeks pink but eyes serious and trained on them.

Junhui casually mentions that she’s been trying to get Soonyoung alone for awhile now. _I guess she thinks this is her last opportunity before summer,_ Junhui continues, and Jihoon lets out a cackle as Soonyoung turns red, turns absolutely scarlet at the thought that Eunkyung, one of the prettiest girls in their grade, wants to spend time with him. What was that supposed to mean to him? Why him? He was just a kid who liked anime and playing stupid games with his friends.

Jihoon says pretty much the same thing, and even though he’d just been thinking it himself Soonyoung shoots him a scowl. Junhui and Jihoon are too busy doubled over with laughter to notice.

Soonyoung looks across the court, eyes landing on the girl in question. He watches as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, the pink barrette in her hair jostling at the motion. She’s laughing a second later, albeit reservedly, the kind of laugh that you laugh because you know someone is observing you.

Kang Eunkyung…

He blinks and tilts his head, thinks about the possibility of spending time with Eunkyung. His brain fashions situations faster than he can handle; images of him holding her hand, making her laugh, kissing her… he pictures her leaning against him, serious eyes looking up and the sweet smile she always saved for the teachers directed at him. Something turns inside him and he shakes his head, uncomfortable.

_I don’t think so. Maybe she’s looking at you, Junnie._

_It’s definitely you,_ Junhui replies airily. _Ansunnie told me all about it._ He sips the last of the juice in the box and looks around for the nearest trash can to shoot it into. He spots one and aims, lets out a whoop when it goes in. Two points.

Jihoon looks at Soonyoung, senses his discomfort.

 _I don’t want her to be looking at me_ , Soonyoung blurts out all of a sudden and it’s only when he says it that he realizes it’s true. The idea of Eunkyung, or any girl for that matter, looking at him like that, makes him feel like his skin is itching, like something is crawling underneath. Some of the guys he knows from the higher grades had girlfriends, and even though he’s never thought about having one, he’s not sure that that was the proper response to it, feeling like bugs were inside his shirt, crawling up his back.

Jihoon takes pity on him. _Maybe she’s just not the right girl,_ he says.

Junhui snorts, clearly not feeling as magnanimous. _Maybe she’s just not the right person,_ he adds.

Soonyoung doesn’t know what he means by this and Junhui shrugs, tells him point blank.

_She’s not Wonwoo._

Something takes over Soonyoung then, something hot and bright that reaches into his core (something terrifyingly close to humiliation) makes him move before thinking. He shoves Junhui down into the cement of their quadrangle, clambers over him to pin him down. By the half-hearted way Jihoon tries to tug him off, Jihoon isn’t really invested in trying to stop them.

Junhui laughs it off, dodges Soonyoung’s balled up fists by grabbing them and circling fingers around them. Soonyoung is not a talented brawler; his gym teacher said as much when they had wrestling for physical education. But the white-hot rage coursing through his veins needed an outlet, and it chose Junhui.

_What the hell Junnie? That’s a shitty thing to—that’s not something you joke about!_

Soonyoung chokes on the words coming out of his mouth, panic creeping into his voice, ringing in his ears as loud as a fire alarm. Jihoon hisses at them, tells them to quit it because a few classmates are looking their way and a teacher looks like she’s about to come over. It’s Jihoon’s sobriety that makes Soonyoung exhale and let the heat clouding his vision subside.

He pushes himself off the ground and Junhui laughs, clearly still unaware of what he’s done. He struggles to get up, needing Jihoon’s help to manage it, but the last thing he said to Soonyoung remains smeared onto his person like a messy streak of paint. He’s afraid that if he sticks around, it’ll show.

He leaves them without a word, and walks home alone.

Wonwoo asks him about it later on, but Soonyoung dismisses it shortly, nervously. He spends the rest of the week focused on his examinations, not talking to Junhui and avoiding Wonwoo.

He’s in his room, trying to focus on the Korean War, but the faint whirring of the fan and the humidity has his mind wandering.

_She’s not Wonwoo._

He forces himself to think of being with Eunkyung, forces himself to think of being with other girls. Maybe he’s just not interested in Eunkyung. Maybe it’s other girls he’s interested in. His mother always teased him about random girls ever since he hit middle school and he always laughed it off but when he really sits down to think about it, he’s never liked a girl, even when he would tell his mother and his friends about girls he admitted to finding pretty.

He doesn’t know if this should bother him or not. He supposes it should, and there’s a sinking feeling in his chest, a creeping realization that something about him is off, is not how it should be.

When he goes to bed that night, he reaches into his pants, and thinks about a faceless girl. He thinks about the forms of the beautiful actresses that adorn his mother’s television screen, imagines them cupping his face and pressing their lips against his, their smooth and pearl-white skin moving against him. He bites his lip, face red from effort and embarrassment, and a small whine of exhaustion escapes from his mouth. Nothing happens.

He falls asleep like that.

He buries these thoughts the next day because come late afternoon he hears footsteps bounding up the stairs and through the hallway outside his room and it’s Wonwoo. Wonwoo’s come to sleep over so they can study science, their last examination for the year before they can finally call themselves potential high school students. He’d completely forgotten.

Wonwoo is smiling through the first three chapters of their textbook, quietly confident because science was one of his best subjects, but he looks at Soonyoung oddly when he makes a terrible pun about photosynthesis and the other doesn’t reply.

_Are you okay?_

Soonyoung doesn’t know how to respond to that. I’m fine, Wonwoo, just consumed by thoughts of how I’m supposed to feel about girls and if there’s anything wrong with me because I don’t feel anything. I don’t feel anything when I’m supposed to feel everything. I’m digging into my attic and the box of magazines my dad packed away before he left and I tried to use them every night since the day Junhui told me about Eunkyung and I felt nothing. They don’t work. Nothing works. I’m a freak. Please don’t hate me.

He settles on, _I’m fine._

Wonwoo pulls up his chair closer, and everything inside Soonyoung is hyperaware of how close Wonwoo suddenly is. Everything about Wonwoo, from his newly-shampooed hair to the soft cotton of his sweatshirt, smells familiar, and Soonyoung feels like crying, feels like jabbing the heels of his palms into his eyes to plug the leaks. A tingling rises to his nose, and he turns his head away even when Wonwoo’s chin perches on his shoulder.

_Are you worried about your grades all of a sudden?_

_My grades are fine,_ Soonyoung retorts, but the crack in his voice is evident, and Wonwoo tugs him closer, playfully murmuring teases in his ear like he always does.

_Ah, our little Soonyoungie is growing up._

Sometime between smoking their first cigarette together and finishing middle school, Wonwoo’s voice had broken and deepened, bottomed out into what was almost a baritone. They tease him about it all the time, and Soonyoung sometimes thinks he’s gotten used to it, but the vibrations of it against his ear and his chest have the strangest effect on Soonyoung and he inhales sharply, breath stuttering his chest.

This time real tears spill down his cheeks. He’s never felt so helpless in his life.

 _Hey,_ Wonwoo says, worry spilling into his voice. _Soon-ah. Look at me._

I can’t, is what Soonyoung thinks, hysteria threatening to push him into a full-blown panic. He buries his head deeper into his arms, a whirlwind in his brain and thoughts he’d deliberately locked away pushing to the surface.

His eyes are scrunched shut, but a palm pats softly at his cheek. _Open your eyes, Soon-ah._ Wonwoo switched to his other side.

He refuses. He can almost sense Wonwoo rolling his eyes even without seeing it.

_Please?_

And he thinks, it’s not fair. It’s really not fair for someone to hold this much of him, for one word to unclose him so.

He opens his eyes, and Wonwoo’s there. Wonwoo’s there and Soonyoung realizes he hasn’t looked, _really_ looked at him since he came in that afternoon. When did he get that cut on his chin? Is he shaving now? He didn’t tell Soonyoung he’d started shaving. Indignation wells inside him, causing more tears to spill over his cheeks, the cheeks that refused to shrink even when he’d started eating less ramen.

Wonwoo chuckles softly, cheek resting against the crook of Soonyoung’s elbow. There’s a hand running up and down Soonyoung’s back, and the comfort of it has Soonyoung exhaling shakily.

The last thing he wants to do is screw up.

_If you want to talk about what you’re so worried about, we can always talk about it._

Soonyoung bites his lip. He wishes it were that simple.

 _I just,_ he whispers, and Wonwoo leans in closer to hear him. Soonyoung stares at the curve of Wonwoo’s ear, tilted to take in his every word, and everything in Soonyoung yearns to know how it feels to press his lips right there, at the mole on his neck. _I can’t. I don’t want you to hate me._

Wonwoo lifts his head, concern making his eyebrows knit together.

_If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. But Soon-ah. I could never hate you._

He holds onto that.

\---

It’s the middle of summer vacation weeks later. Soonyoung sits in his kitchen on another hot afternoon, nothing to do but watch his mother make a pot of barley tea while he sips on a small bottle of banana milk.

His mother is a kind and gentle woman, a strong woman (after his father left them behind) often bewildered by her boisterous and lively son but one who loves him all the same. She is his world, and Soonyoung knows that no matter what happens, he would always be by her side, willing to do anything in his power to give her everything her heart desired.

 _Yeon-hee is engaged,_ she tells him all of a sudden, and his mouth drops open in surprise.

She tells him all about it. A colleague at work who she had been seeing proposed to her the other night and she had accepted. His aunt told his mother just that morning. Soonyoung nods, trying to digest this news. He’s happy for her. He hopes that Yeon-hee’s future husband helps her feel less tired in the evenings. She deserves that.

Soonyoung kicks at the kitchen table legs, the talks of wedding preparation from his mother going in one ear and out the other, but he doesn’t fail to notice the look in his mother’s eye when she talks about Yeon-hee starting a family soon, and his fingers curl up when, before he stands up and leaves, his mother jokes softly about how she hopes she gets both boy and girl grandchildren one day.

He smiles tightly at her before going up to his room, ignoring the sound of blood rushing his ears.

In the still of the night, when the shades are drawn and the lights are shut, he closes his eyes and lets his hand and mind wander. He begins this, his night time ritual that he and his friends have all admitted to started doing, thinking about the girls he casually admires from afar—beautiful Mijin, soft Jiyeon, lovely Jae-eun. He palms himself thinking of their long hair and smooth skin, bites his lip thinking about them pulling him into their arms. Something shifts and the arms around him look firmer, stronger. His partner is shrouded in shadow, his mind granting a modicum of shame, but sometimes he sees glimpses of the older boys he was friends with, now in high school: varsity captain Choi Seungcheol with his long lashes and pale skin, aspiring actor Yoon Jeonghan with his pretty boy looks, sometimes even his quiet friend from church Hong Jisoo with the soft smile and the cat eyes.

He thinks to himself, assures himself that no one could see his thoughts, that no one could ever know his thoughts, helpless to stop himself and his shameful little mind from conjuring up scenario after scenario of being with this person, of touching him, of being touched by him. He presses his face into the pillow and moans, the pressure coiling in his groin building and building to an almost unbearable heat. He bucks and sighs, but it is only when the shadows in his brain clear and he sees who he’s with that he finds release.

The first time it happened Soonyoung had cried, desperately embarrassed to be thinking of a boy like that – worst of all, his best friend. He avoided Wonwoo for a good two days, something Wonwoo had chalked up to Soonyoung losing to him at Street Fighter.

At some point, he thinks: is it normal to think this way about your closest friend? He doesn’t think of Jihoon or Junhui this way, even when he teases Jihoon and presses kisses to his soft cheeks, and clutches too tightly at Junhui’s wiry frame. Neither of them ends up in his mind the way Wonwoo does with alarming frequency—Wonwoo, with his lazy grin and bony frame broadening into something sturdier. He’s starting to become scared of how often he catches himself staring at Wonwoo when he isn’t looking, worried that Junhui’s streak of paint could never be scrubbed clean.

Despite all of his fears, nights would always circle back to thoughts of how Wonwoo’s skin feels underneath his fingertips, how the lines of his back form an arch when he stretches, how no matter how much Soonyoung inhales of him he can never get enough. In the still of the night, it’s Wonwoo he thinks of and imagines, Wonwoo, whom he knows almost better than he knows himself, touching him and taking him in.

***

Haejin dies in the summer before Year 11.

Wonwoo says he’d been expecting it. Haejin was getting along in age, had already exceeded the usual life expectancy for most Jindo dogs, and he had been suffering from what the animal doctors told them was arthritis caused by hip dysplasia for the past year and a half.

It wasn’t a surprise, but Wonwoo is still devastated.

He keeps everything in, however. Haejin is buried in the Jeon’s backyard. Wonwoo’s dad and Wonwoo did most of the shoveling, while Soonyoung stayed behind them, patting Bohyuk on the back, trying to comfort the young boy and stop him from sobbing. To an outsider it would seem like a little too much ceremony for a pet, but he was beloved and he was family. The little funeral was the least they could do.

After Wonwoo takes a shower, Soonyoung and Wonwoo walk back to Soonyoung’s together. Soonyoung’s mom has a seminar in the city for a few days, and instead of Soonyoung staying over at Wonwoo’s or at his aunt’s, Wonwoo had suggested he keep him company here since his house was a little too sad over Haejin’s illness, which ended in his eventual passing. He told Soonyoung’s mom this himself, while the two of them were playing video games in Soonyoung’s living room, and a phone call between their parents confirmed the arrangement, on the condition that they would have breakfast at Wonwoo’s to show proof that they were still alive every morning.

It strikes Soonyoung as frighteningly domestic, the way the empty house greets them as soon as Soonyoung unlocks the door. The thought that coming home together like this would be something married people would do arises, unbidden, from the depths of Soonyoung’s mind, and he bites his lip and shakes his head.

It took him two weeks after the night before the science exam to start talking to Junhui again, but things settled back to normal between all of them after that. High school started after that summer, which led all of them to become more serious about their studies and their future. Soonyoung tried a lot of things for the first time during Year 10, stuff like trying out for the school’s taekwondo team, joining clubs, and asking out a girl from their year, even going so far as to have his first kiss (a sweet little peck) after their second date. They don’t work out.

Wonwoo asks if he knows why they didn’t, and even if he feigns ignorance, Soonyoung knows why.

When Wonwoo goes out with someone a month or so after his own dates, Soonyoung finds out that jealousy feels like having someone reach into your chest and clutch at your still beating heart. They only go on the one date, but it’s enough to have Soonyoung refuse to look at Wonwoo in the eye for a few days, even though he knows the lingering ache is no one’s fault (but his).

Wonwoo’s shoulders sag and he leans heavily against Soonyoung from behind, leading Soonyoung to guide them into the living room after tossing the keys onto the mantle.

 _Sleep_ , Wonwoo murmurs, before Soonyoung can deposit him on the couch. He stumbles a little, but changes direction easily enough. He trudges up the stairs, Wonwoo’s arms latched around him, and he pats the fingers linked across his waist in a way that he hopes is reassuring.

_Bed?_

_Okay._

Wonwoo’s sleeping cot is stretched out on the floor, but Wonwoo crawls up Soonyoung’s bed instead, hand pulling after Soonyoung to follow him. Soonyoung does, after switching the fan on and facing it towards them. The bed hasn’t changed since they were ten but six years later they still fit, though they both have to lay on their sides to manage it, and Wonwoo’s height has his ankles dangling over the edge.

Wonwoo stops, waits, hands tucked underneath his cheek until Soonyoung settles next to him, before he reaches out to pluck a loose thread from the hem of Soonyoung’s shirt. His fingers flick away the string before they rest, settle on the spot on Soonyoung’s hip. Soonyoung’s eyes are fixed on his face, unwavering; Wonwoo’s gnawing at his bottom lip, eyes open and unseeing and staring at the spot where his hand is, where his hand is beginning to fist at the hem of Soonyoung’s shirt. Soonyoung bites the inside of his cheek. He knows Wonwoo is upset, knows Wonwoo wants to either talk or sleep, but he doesn’t know what Wonwoo will end up doing. So he waits.

_Oh._

He can’t help but exclaim softly when he sees the first tear roll down Wonwoo’s nose. He closes the distance between them, wrapping arms around his friend before the first sob escapes his body.

Wonwoo wasn’t the crier, he was. Wonwoo dealt with sad, uncomfortable things stoically, not entirely assuredly, but the best way he could. A few days after his dad left, he slept over at Wonwoo’s so he could cry without his mom hearing and Bohyuk had very kindly roomed in with their parents so that he wouldn’t feel bad about it. He wept a lot that night, and Wonwoo hadn’t said a thing, just stroked his back until his sobbing subsided into quiet little sniffles. That night, he told Wonwoo that he was his best friend, and Wonwoo smiled back, and told him that he was his.

He tries to sound reassuring, murmuring little shushes into Wonwoo’s ear while his fingers stroke at his nape, but it seems to make him feel worse, if the loudness of his sobbing is any indication. Soonyoung holds him tighter then, rubs his back a little more briskly. Tries to be more there, tries to be more comforting, tries to somehow convey that he would do everything in his power to make sure no sadness touched him again. It’s a pretentious little wish, but one he feels nonetheless.

His heart breaks a little when Wonwoo pulls back and Soonyoung sees the crestfallen look on his face. Wonwoo ducks his head into the pillow, the little streaks on his face disappearing into the cotton of his sheets. _Hey._

_Sorry. Sorry, I didn’t—I’m fine now. I just needed to let that out._

Wonwoo’s talking into the pillow, and everything is fuzzy and muffled and Soonyoung can’t see his face. He reaches out without thinking, brushing away the stray hairs around Wonwoo’s temple, fingers tucking his still damp hair over his ear, settling to wrap lightly around his nape.

Soonyoung hears Wonwoo sigh softly and something about the sad sound compels him to tuck his head into the little space between Wonwoo’s chin and shoulder. He feels Wonwoo’s arms reach around him to hold him tight and they’re close, so very close, Soonyoung’s fingers twisting and tugging at the strings of his sweatshirt collar. Something at the back of Soonyoung’s mind is telling him to tread carefully, but he’s caught up, the scent of Wonwoo’s soap filling him every time he takes in a breath. Soonyoung’s eyes flutter shut and he feathers one kiss, two against the other’s cheek. He just wants Wonwoo to stop being sad.

It’s only when he hears Wonwoo sighing again that he realizes that he’s inching his way down the column of Wonwoo’s neck, marveling at the feeling of the pulse under his lips. Heat floods his face at the sudden sound, at the sudden realization of what he was doing, and he gasps, nearly jolts, mortified, until he feels Wonwoo’s hold around him tighten.

_Don’t go._

Soonyoung’s lip is quivering when Wonwoo turns away from the pillow to face him. His eyes are watery and red, and there are streaks running down his cheeks, but his face inches closer until Soonyoung feels his breath against his cheek.

_Don’t stop._

Something strange is happening to him, and Soonyoung thinks, this is probably a dream. This isn’t happening in real life. Everything is moving in slow motion and Soonyoung feels a strange weight sitting on top of his chest, stopping his breath. He looks into Wonwoo’s face, unsure of what he’s saying, unsure of what he means, and he sees a seriousness and a clarity there that he hasn’t seen before. _Wonwoo-yah_ , he says.

Wonwoo stares back at him, and his eyes flicker to Soonyoung’s mouth up to his eyes, asking an unknown question, before he moves forward to press his lips against his.

Oh, Soonyoung thinks again. His first kiss was nothing like this. When Soomi had kissed him, it was a small moment, both of their mouths closed, lasting less than a second. She had blushed and played with her hair then, and he offered to walk her home. Wonwoo’s lips are so soft and so wet, and they move against Soonyoung’s slowly, once, twice before he realizes what’s happening. Wonwoo is kissing him. Wonwoo. Half of him is telling him to stop, to pull away, to think about the consequences. It’s unnatural, it’s wrong, it could ruin everything important to them.

The other half of him is reaching, reaching up to draw the curtains of his window closed, reaching out to cup Wonwoo’s face in his hands so that he could kiss him back.

\---

That summer, Soonyoung learns many things.

The first thing he learns is that Wonwoo kisses the same way he moves through life, slowly, thoughtfully, almost lethargically, and it drives Soonyoung into a state of breathless impatience. They spend a long amount of time that afternoon figuring out how their mouths and their bodies fit against each other, a practical tutoring session of the best kind.

( _We have to eat soon,_ Soonyoung murmurs against Wonwoo’s cheek. He presses a small kiss at the corner of Wonwoo’s mouth. His lips are mildly sore from kissing Wonwoo so much, but he figures that it’s a small price to pay. His fingers tentatively reach under Wonwoo’s sweatshirt to rub at the skin at the small of his back. Because he can. _Get up._ Soonyoung attempts to stand, trying to extricate himself from the knotting of their limbs.

Wonwoo groans, eyes closed. He tugs Soonyoung closer to him with his ankles and Soonyoung falls back against him, laughing slightly, their legs tangling together. Skinship had always come to the both of them naturally, but this was another level of intimacy altogether, and both of them had spent the afternoon marveling at lingering touches and their effects on the other, slowly pushing the boundaries of what they were. _Five minutes._ Wonwoo opens his eyes, smiles, and the way he looks at Soonyoung has him feeling almost shy. He wonders what he sees.

 _Okay,_ Soonyoung says. _Five._ Wonwoo flashes him a triumphant smile before dragging him back down to kiss him again. It’s almost amusing how much they’ve learned at this point, nearly four hours later. From shy closed-mouth presses, they had tried and experimented, murmuring to each other about what felt good and what didn’t. _Practice makes perfect_ , Wonwoo had joked earlier on, and Soonyoung couldn’t help but indulge him in that proverb.

Wonwoo’s fingers card in his hair and their mouths open against each other, Soonyoung gasping when Wonwoo slowly traces his lips with his tongue before tilting his head and licking into his mouth. The small but steadily building heat in his stomach stokes, and he bucks his hips involuntarily into the press of Wonwoo’s body against his. When Wonwoo reaches under his shirt to press his palms against his sides, Soonyoung’s insides curl, and he can’t help but whine into the other’s kiss, the want in him rising unbearably, making him squirm.

Wonwoo pulls away, and Soonyoung sees something heady in his eyes, something heavy, and it staggers him a little that he’s the reason for it. He bites his lips when Wonwoo’s fingers clutch at the hem of his shirt and his eyes linger on his, silently asking if this was still okay, or if they had hit their limit for the day.

The thing that Soonyoung really learns that day is that he has no limits when it comes to Wonwoo. Wonwoo could ask anything of him, and Soonyoung would always say yes.

He nods.

Dinner gets delayed.)

The second thing he learns is that when two sixteen-year-old boys who find themselves attracted to each other are left alone in a house unsupervised, inhibitions are generally thrown out the window, along with common sense. In hindsight, Soonyoung thinks that perhaps they could have taken it at a slower pace, gotten to know each other that way over time rather than mostly one night, but curiosity and hormones get the better of them, and Soonyoung discovers that Wonwoo feels and tastes much better in real life than in his mind.

( _Soon-ah._

Soonyoung feels rather than hears Wonwoo gasp his name out, feels because he’s working his way down Wonwoo’s chest with his mouth. It’s fascinating how much power one can yield in submission, if submission is even the word; Soonyoung leaves little marks with every kiss he makes, unable to resist how every one makes Wonwoo inhale sharply and let out the tiniest moan. When Soonyoung licks at the sweat beading at his hip, the groan that escapes Wonwoo is almost embarrassingly loud. His hands reach out, and Soonyoung wraps them in his, their fingers locking in and through together.

_I’m-I’m…_

When Soonyoung mouths at the spot just below Wonwoo’s bellybutton, right above the catch of his pants, Wonwoo’s breath stutters, and he gets tugged up and into Wonwoo’s lap. Their lips find each other for what seems like the hundredth time that day, and Soonyoung finds out that the way Wonwoo’s skin slides against his is an obsession waiting to be reaped. Wonwoo is thin but he’s strong, and his arms brace Soonyoung against him. When Wonwoo’s hips buck up into Soonyoung’s, they’re both dizzy and panting and shuddering.

 _Sorry, sorry,_ Wonwoo wheezes into Soonyoung’s cheek. He presses his face into Soonyoung’s collarbone, trying to collect himself. Soonyoung wonders if they’re both going too far, if it is the prudent course of action to stop, for them to separate and then go to bed, but bravado is coursing through his veins, bravado and adrenaline and a year-and-a half of need, and Soonyoung errs on the side of recklessness; he wants to see how Wonwoo looks when he unravels, and if it compares in any way to how he’s imagined it in his mind.

 _It’s okay,_ Soonyoung murmurs into the crown of Wonwoo’s head, and he leans back to cradle Wonwoo’s jaw in his hands, thumbs stroking his cheekbones. It’s dark in the room—they switched off the main lights in his room after dinner, only leaving the lamp on his desk on—but the small amount of moonlight filtering through his curtains is enough to see. They look each other in the eye, and Soonyoung tries in that moment to convey how much he wants Wonwoo—how much he wants this—in a glance. Wonwoo blinks, and Soonyoung places a light kiss on each of his cheeks.

There’s a hush in the room when Soonyoung presses his forehead against Wonwoo’s, guides his hands to Soonyoung’s hips. He gasps, breath ragged, when Wonwoo holds him firm, rolls his hips tentatively once, then twice. He’s never felt anything like this, not even on particularly busy nights—like the core of his being spontaneously burst into flames leaving him to burn up from the inside. He wraps arms around Wonwoo’s shoulders, breathing heavily into his hair, and stops thinking; when Wonwoo moves his hips upwards, he grinds down to meet him at the same time.

Soonyoung learns that night that the various scenarios his mind had come up with to aid him couldn’t hold a candle to the real thing; very little, in fact, could compare.)

The third thing he learns is that one night isn’t enough.

( _You’re so noisy, don’t be noisy._

_I’m not noisy, you’re noisy._

Wonwoo sighs from underneath Soonyoung. _This isn’t very comfortable._ He angles himself against the stone wall behind him, trying to find a position that doesn’t make his ribs feel like they’re sticking into important internal organs. There weren’t very many places in town where they could meet to do this without getting caught; they tried a number of places but there were too many close calls to count. This place, where they had their first taste of beer and cigarettes, was the only place in town that was secluded and safe enough for what they wanted to do.

 _You don’t have much choice, Wonwoo-yah_ , Soonyoung retaliates, but he’s distracted from their usual back-and-forth, too busy trying to unbuckle the belt around Wonwoo’s waist. _You knew what we were going to do, what’s the belt even for?_

 _To annoy you,_ Wonwoo retorts, but the words catch on an exhale because Soonyoung manages to remove the offending article and unzip his jeans. Soonyoung glances up from between Wonwoo’s legs, playful.

 _Didn’t really work, did it?_ Soonyoung giggles a little, and Wonwoo looks like he wants to walk out right then and there, before Soonyoung takes him in his hand. He tilts his head at Wonwoo, teasing, watching. _You look good like this, Wonwoo-yah,_ Soonyoung says quietly.

And he does, even if his back is pressed against a wall and his legs are splayed over a blanket Soonyoung brought in his backpack; his hair is mussed up from Soonyoung’s hands and his face is turning red from Soonyoung’s touch. He squirms underneath him, and Soonyoung feels his own desire building inside him quietly, but he can wait. It had been too long—a week—since they managed to get some time away from their friends and family to do this. They see each other almost every day, but not often enough to be able to do what they want. If they’re lucky, they can sneak little touches, a soft kiss or two in passing, but times like these, when they’re both free to touch and taste and get each other off, are rare.

 _Soon-ah, please,_ Wonwoo breathes. He wraps a hand around Soonyoung’s wrist, plaintive.

They don’t have much time.

 _Okay,_ Soonyoung thinks, before bending his head to take him in.

Later, as they lie on the blanket recovering before they take their bikes home together, Wonwoo’s face pressed into Soonyoung’s collarbone, Soonyoung thinks that these moments, as fleeting as they are, are enough.

They have to be.)

The fourth thing he learns is that Wonwoo doesn’t want to talk about it, and he doesn’t want to let anyone know.

(The thing is, he gets it. He really does. There are so many reasons why what they have should never see the light of day: they’re both guys, they’re both teenagers barely in high school, they’re both _guys_ , their families would be devastated, no one knew what this AIDS thing really was, _they’re both guys_.

It still doesn’t stop him from feeling ugly and terribly unwanted whenever he sees Wonwoo talking to anyone, and whenever he goes out on dates, even if that’s something they both agreed they should do so as not to raise suspicions. If Junhui and Jihoon suspect any changes, neither says a thing. They both do their part to disguise what they have, doing their best to ensure that their dynamic looks like it’s the same.

Even if nothing could be further from the truth.)

The last and most important thing he learns that summer is that he’s in love with Wonwoo. He’s in love with Wonwoo, and he has no idea what to do about it.

***

Wonwoo’s cousin goes into the army the next summer.

Wonwoo and Soonyoung had been sitting around Wonwoo’s and Bohyuk’s room studying for end-of-year exams when Bohyuk comes in to tell them the news, sweaty and disheveled since he had just come from soccer with his friends. He sounds excited; Seunggi was always someone he looked up to. Soonyoung’s met him and understands why—he’s tall, quiet and reliable, handsome in a non-intimidating way. Wonwoo tells him that he’s the favorite grandchild, and Soonyoung’s not sure he’s imagining the slight jealousy in his tone when he says it.

Bohyuk tells Wonwoo that the reason he’s telling him is because he thinks their dad will bring it up with him and ask him about what he wants to do soon. Soonyoung doesn’t make much of it and turns back to his book, but clearly the statement affects Wonwoo; his spine stiffens and his textbook falls from his lap to his bed. Bohyuk is lying on his mattress, tossing the ball up and down, rambling on about how their family should take a trip down to Changwon and see him before he goes in. _It’s not that far_ , he goes on, _plus it’ll be nice to see family over there._

He continues talking about the things he wants to do at Changwon, oblivious to how agitated Wonwoo seems all of a sudden. But Soonyoung notices, and he carefully places a hand on Wonwoo’s knee, rubs softly.

Wonwoo stands abruptly, interrupting Bohyuk’s monologue. _Let’s go for a walk_ , he says, the invitation clearly excluding Bohyuk. He opens the door and marches through it resolutely, not even looking back to see if Soonyoung was following him. Bohyuk raises an eyebrow and looks at Soonyoung, holding his hands up, as if to ask, _what did I do?_ Soonyoung shrugs, because he’s not exactly sure either.

They take their bicycles through the hilly, barely paved streets; Soonyoung wonders if they’re heading back to their spot, but Wonwoo takes a left instead of a right and he follows, pedaling slowly. They end up at a clearing, the Nakdonggong in the distance. The weather this summer isn’t as hot; there’s even a small breeze that ruffles at their collars as they kick their bikes down so they lie on their side in the tall grass. It’s a pretty secluded spot, but Soonyoung feels like Wonwoo’s in a pensive mood, so he doesn’t expect for anything, doesn’t do anything except slide down to the ground next to him and wait.

He frowns a little when he sees Wonwoo take out a cigarette and put it between his lips, cupping the tip to block it from the slight wind as he strikes a match. Wonwoo swears up and down he’s not taken it up for good, but Soonyoung’s seen him light up more often lately. He doesn’t tell him off though—Wonwoo is his own person, and it’s not his job to look after him.

_Are you okay?_

Wonwoo doesn’t answer, not right away. He pulls his legs up to either side of him, rests his elbows on his knees, eyes on the ground.

_Do you remember when we studied the fall of the Berlin Wall?_

He spoke so suddenly that Soonyoung, who had lost interest in waiting for him to speak and was watching a caterpillar inch across the grass, jolts a little.

_In history class?_

Wonwoo takes another drag at the cigarette, watches the wisps of smoke he exhales blow away in the direction of the river.

_I remember hearing about it and thinking, wow. Shit. That’s amazing. That’s amazing that something that impressive happened just a handful of years ago… that somewhere across the world, incredible things were happening. Are happening, everyday._

Soonyoung fidgets, picks at a loose thread on his jeans. He doesn’t remember what he’s talking about, nor is he exactly sure where Wonwoo is going with this.

_Every day that we’re sitting here, somewhere, a wall is falling, a country is emerging, a world is changing. Do you think about that sometimes?_

There’s a small part of Soonyoung that feels like he’s being talked down to, but he doesn’t take it against Wonwoo. He knows Wonwoo doesn’t mean it. _I guess I don’t._

Wonwoo looks up, looks around them, slowly. Soonyoung looks too; in the distance they hear a tractor whirring and bird calls twinkling in the trees, but aside from the soft breeze that ruffles at the leaves, nothing in the little landing they’re sitting in stirs.

_Is this about Seunggi’s enlistment?_

Wonwoo exhales the last of the smoke from his lungs before pressing the cigarette stub into the ground, brushing gently at the dirt to bury it underneath. _Dad’s been asking me what I plan to do for college_ , he says, solemnly. He doesn’t look very happy.

Soonyoung nudges closer to him. _Didn’t you say you were taking up biology? That’s what you said._ That was the plan, at least. Wonwoo was always really good at science.

_I don’t know._

_Do you want to take up something else?_

Wonwoo shrugs, frustration pinking his cheeks. _It’s not that. It’s just—I want to be able to see walls fall._ He looks up and into Soonyoung’s face, and Soonyoung forces himself not to look away. Wonwoo’s searching for something in him, and Soonyoung doesn’t know what it is, but he wants to give Wonwoo the chance to see.

_We can see walls fall, Wonwoo-yah. We can do it together, and then come home._

Wonwoo sighs at that, turns away. Soonyoung can’t help but feel that he failed a test he didn’t know he was taking.

\---

That night, in his bed, Soonyoung thinks about the cryptic conversation they had. They had biked around for an hour after that; by the time they reached Wonwoo’s, it was almost time for dinner, so after picking up his books, Soonyoung had told him he’d see him at school tomorrow.

He’s quiet through dinner—so quiet that his mom asks him if he’s feeling alright—and restless for the rest of the night. He gives up on studying and curls up on his bed and thinks about Wonwoo, about how sometimes he thinks he knows Wonwoo better than he knows himself but also how he never thought about Wonwoo wanting to leave their little county.

If Wonwoo wanted to see the world, then they could just take some time and see it together, right?

It might even be easier, going out in the world, away from people they know. For awhile, anyway.

He thinks about the possibility of that, of seeing strange and foreign places with Wonwoo. It’s a desperate dream and he closes his eyes to visualize it; being next to Wonwoo, holding Wonwoo’s hand in his while he complained about the weather, pressing his cheek into Wonwoo’s bony shoulder, pointing out sights and sounds and laughing, marveling. He thinks of a more open-minded world, a place where he can lean over and kiss Wonwoo without people staring, without people whispering, without people judging.

His mother wouldn’t judge them.

He bites his lip, then, little pangs in his heart at the thought of just how many times he’s lied to his mother ever since things changed between him and Wonwoo, how many times he’s told his mother he’s going out to the river or playing video games at Jihoon’s when in actuality he and Wonwoo are sneaking off to be together. He’s never lied to his mother until now, and he can’t help but feel that every fib that comes out of his mouth is a step further away from her.

He assuages himself with the thought that maybe one day he won’t have to lie to her about something so important to him.

Maybe one day. Ever the optimist, he believes.

Soonyoung opens his eyes again, stares into the dark of his room. Over his bed, the curtains flutter, calming his anxious spirit. He doesn’t know what the future will hold for him, for Wonwoo, for the both of them, but he’ll figure it out. They’ll figure it out.

His eyes close, and he doesn’t dream at all.

\---

A few weeks later, reality bites.

It starts out innocuously enough, Wonwoo sitting half on top of him, fingers in his hair, mouth on his. He was kissing him softly, almost lazily, and Soonyoung was enjoying the attention—they hadn’t been able to find time alone since school ended, what with Wonwoo’s family going down to see his cousin in Changwon and Soonyoung making his own preparations for college. His mom had insisted that he start inquiring at nearby schools, so he and Junhui did just that, riding their bikes up and down the hills and into admissions offices, looking at the courses offered and trying to imagine themselves doing just the one thing for the rest of their lives.

Jihoon said he wanted to take up law, so his family had decided that he would look into universities in Seoul; with his grades, it wasn’t a far-fetched concept for him to be going there the year after next. Soonyoung tries not to be too upset about it but he’s itching for Wonwoo to come home so he can mope about how sad he was that Jihoon would most likely be leaving.

When Wonwoo breezes into his room after coming back from Changwon, he’s about to start off with that news, but there’s a look in Wonwoo’s eyes, and Soonyoung has barely opened his mouth before Wonwoo is kissing him in greeting. His eyes widen, surprised, but he places a hand on Wonwoo’s cheek when he feels him smile against his mouth.

_I missed you._

Something inside Soonyoung’s chest tightens and softens all at once.

Soonyoung’s mother is at work, so Wonwoo feels safe climbing into Soonyoung’s lap in bed, and Soonyoung feels a terrible yearning working inside him, as if his body was just realizing how much it had longed for Wonwoo in the few weeks he was gone. Wonwoo’s hands reach under his shirt to press slowly against his sides, as if to simply feel his warmth; Soonyoung can’t help but sigh.

_I missed you too._

Wonwoo pulls away for a second, and heat arrows straight into Soonyoung when he sees how swollen his lips are. He tilts his head, coyly, when he sees Soonyoung’s gaze focus on his mouth, and smirks while pushing Soonyoung down onto the mattress, settling comfortably on top of him.

_We haven’t done this on a bed in awhile._

Later, they lie down, turned to face each other. After a long exhale, Wonwoo’s eyes flutter shut, faint smile on his face. He looks almost peaceful. Soonyoung, filled with love, leans over to kiss him.

Wonwoo’s eyes stay closed, but his grin widens sneakily. _You’re welcome._ Soonyoung pokes him in the stomach and Wonwoo laughs, nose crinkling with amusement. Soonyoung realizes it’s been awhile since he’s heard that sound. They’d both been caught up with exams and school talks on education and job opportunities that they’d been snapping and tiptoeing around each other.

 _Idiot,_ Soonyoung replies, and the fondness on his face escapes Wonwoo’s notice, his eyes still shut.

_Hey. Did you hear about Jihoon?_

_Hmmm?_

_He’s looking into universities in Seoul. For law._

Wonwoo shrugs, looking unperturbed. _Yeah, he mentioned it to me in passing. Good for him._

Soonyoung raises an eyebrow. _You knew?_ It strikes him as odd how Jihoon would tell Wonwoo ahead of him, since Jihoon was more Soonyoung’s friend than Wonwoo’s.

_Yeah._

_Oh._ Soonyoung blinks rapidly. He crosses his arms over his chest, trying to figure out why he felt so annoyed by that. _And you’re not bothered by it?_

_By what?_

_Jihoon. Leaving._

Wonwoo opens his eyes now, curious about the line of questioning; he pins his palms under his cheek and trains his eyes on Soonyoung. _Why would I be bothered?_

 _Because._ It makes more sense in Soonyoung’s head. _Because that’s not how it’s supposed to go. We’re all supposed to stay together._

The beginning of a frown mars Wonwoo’s face. _But Jihoon has a chance to do well in Seoul doing something he wants to do. Shouldn’t we be happy for him?_

Soonyoung squirms, unsure of why his sentiments are being turned against him. _That’s not what I meant._

Wonwoo peers at him closely. _Then what do you mean?_

It annoys Soonyoung sometimes, the way Wonwoo quietly analyzes things he deigns to pick and prod at, how directly and relentlessly he gets to the heart of the matter when it’s caught his particular attention. _I just thought, I just thought we’d all stay together for college. Like, I thought we said we’d be friends forever._ He lowers his head, suddenly embarrassed. _That we’d grow old together._

He’s not talking about Jihoon and Junhui anymore, and looking at Wonwoo’s face, Soonyoung knows that Wonwoo’s realized that.

He feels slightly mortified as soon as he says it, but something in Soonyoung’s heart eases as soon as it’s out there, between them. Soonyoung knows that he loves Wonwoo, loves him as much as his seventeen-year-old heart can, and sometimes it’s enough; sometimes, it’s enough to love in shadow and in secret because it’s Wonwoo, because Soonyoung would rather be with Wonwoo in the dark than not be with him at all, but sometimes it isn’t. Sometimes he feels selfish and ugly things gripping his insides, and he feels desperate, and desperately sad that something so good between them can never see the light of day.

Whenever he tries to talk about it with Wonwoo, tries to talk about the possibility of a future, the possibility of a plan, Soonyoung gets tight-lipped answers that begin to chip away at what’s between them; something inside Soonyoung breaks every time. He’s afraid that if he doesn’t do anything soon, there will be nothing left of him to break.

(Soonyoung loves Wonwoo, loves him as much as he thinks he is capable, but he has never known if Wonwoo has ever felt the same.)

 _Okay, first of all, we were eleven when we said that,_ Wonwoo says, a small wry grin on his face. _Second of all, just because we attend separate colleges doesn’t mean we won’t be friends._ Wonwoo ducks his head now. _It doesn’t mean anything._

An uncomfortable silence follows after that, and Soonyoung suddenly remembers their last conversation, in the clearing, before Wonwoo had left for Changwon, and how the uneasiness that had cropped up had been temporarily forgotten in the distance. Soonyoung senses that distance now, suddenly present, a chasm between them where only moments ago there was warmth. The uncertainty of their futures, of what they were, loomed over them, an unasked question unanswered; the more they avoided it, the heavier it weighed on their shoulders. Soonyoung was desperately afraid of crumbling under the pressure.

 _Wonwoo-yah._ Soonyoung says, swallows before continuing. He sees his chance, and gambles. _Wonwoo-yah, I don’t want to keep lying to my mother._

The other straightens his spine, the sudden turn in the conversation causing his face to go terribly blank.

_It makes me feel like I’m betraying her._

Wonwoo bites his lip, his eyes cutting away to a spot on Soonyoung’s bedsheet.

 _I’m sorry,_ he says, after awhile. There’s a quiet tear in Wonwoo’s voice, like he’s trying not to cry.

Soonyoung scoots closer; the last thing he wants to see is Wonwoo crying. _We can just… maybe we can tell her._ Wonwoo’s whole body stiffens and he looks into Soonyoung’s hopeful face, alarmed. _She’d understand, I know she would. Then we can figure it out after._

_What the fuck, Soonyoung? What the fuck are you talking about?_

Wonwoo continues when he’s met by a stunned silence from Soonyoung. _You can’t make that decision for me, for-for both of us!_ Wonwoo is hissing, limbs pushing at the other’s body, and Soonyoung is taken aback when Wonwoo’s clenched fist shoves against his chest, shoves him away.

_We’re not telling your parents, just mine! Just my mom. She’ll understand. She loves you. She loves me._

_That’s not the point._ Wonwoo is almost shouting, and Soonyoung wordlessly watches him struggle to untangle himself from the sheets, to get out of the bed. Numb, Soonyoung sits up. _Nobody can know about this, nobody. My family..._

 _My mom wouldn’t tell them,_ Soonyoung protests weakly. Panic is climbing up his spine, clutching at his throat like poison ivy vines to a trellis. He’s never seen Wonwoo this agitated over anything, to the point where he’s striking and lashing out at Soonyoung with hands and words. He’s handled this terribly, he thinks to himself, but he doesn’t know what to do. He watches Wonwoo go around his room and pick up his shirt and pants from the floor; Soonyoung can’t move a muscle, rooted to the spot on his bed.

 _It’s not just that, Soonyoung,_ Wonwoo replies roughly, face red, and even though Soonyoung is braced, he still isn’t ready. _What we are, who we are, nobody is going to accept that. We could go to jail. Did you ever think about that? We could lose everything and everyone._

Wonwoo’s words wash over him, the reality of them a bucket of ice-cold water to the face. He shivers.

_I’m not doing this to my mom, to my dad, my brother. To your mom. Think of how they would feel. What would they think? That they raised a couple of… a couple of…_

_Wonwoo, stop, I’m sorry._ Soonyoung doesn’t realize that he’s crying until he feels wetness drip down from his chin to his shirt. He sniffs, pitifully, and drops his face into his hands. _I’m sorry._

_If you don’t want to tell anyone, then we won’t tell anyone. I won’t tell anyone. Nobody has to know. Nobody. We can work everything out. Just. Please don’t leave._

(Please don’t leave me.)

_I… I…_

(I love you.)

Cool hands cup his cheeks, fingers dancing, soothing the redness. Something in Soonyoung’s chest stutters, and he cries even harder, his entire frame shaking from the sobbing, the fear. Is this how it feels, Soonyoung thinks, to love? To be crippled by the loss of the one thing you hold dear? It’s terrible, Soonyoung decides.

 _Soon-ah,_ Wonwoo says. _I’m sorry._ His voice sounds like he’s crying a little, too. _I’m so sorry._

Soonyoung’s hands clutch at his wrists, to press them against his cheeks, to keep them there.

_I’ll see you tomorrow._

Wonwoo leaves anyway.

The next day, they ride their bikes to Jihoon’s together, an unspoken agreement between them not to talk about it. Soonyoung is stiff, nervy until Wonwoo rubs a hand down his back before they leave. He looks at him then, and Wonwoo looks back, before smiling reassuringly.

Tentatively, Soonyoung smiles back.

Nothing’s changed.

(Everything’s changed.)

\--- 

Soonyoung and his mom were spending the last month of the summer before Year 12 in Gyeongju, where Yeon-hee, her husband, and Hana, the newest addition to their family, lived. Yeon-hee’s husband, a tall man who enjoyed laughing, wanted to get to know Yeon-hee’s family more, and so the invitation was issued. Soonyoung had complained at first, initially using university exams as an excuse to get out of the trip, but his mother had put her foot down.

In truth, Soonyoung was worried about being away from Wonwoo for so long. Ever since their fight, Soonyoung had been feeling uneasy. Wonwoo didn’t act like anything was different, but something inside Soonyoung could feel the shift, almost tangible in the air, between them. He couldn’t tell if it was good or bad.

Wonwoo had laughed when Soonyoung whined at him that he didn’t want to go.

_You love Yeon-hee, and you said you wanted to see her kid._

_I do,_ Soonyoung admits; he wraps arms around Wonwoo’s shoulders, lays his cheek against his nape. Wonwoo presses his lips against the intertwined fingers against his collarbone.

_Then go._

_But… a whole month._ Soonyoung pouts.

He can feel Wonwoo swallow by the way his whole frame moves under his arms. _Family is important, Soon-ah._

_I know._

_Tell Yeon-hee I said hello._

_Okay._

He feels Wonwoo’s hands curl around his. Soonyoung misses him already.

The night before he leaves, Wonwoo sleeps over. Soonyoung’s mom fusses over him, talks about how she only really noticed how tall he’s gotten and he ducks his head, laughing, when she reaches up to fix the collar of his shirt.

_I bet you’re breaking all the girls’ hearts, Wonwoo-yah._

Soonyoung crosses his arms, huffs a little. _Don’t inflate his ego even more, mom. It’s bad enough that we have to deal with all the girls asking us to set him up with them._

His mother nudges Wonwoo a little. _Maybe you can recommend a nice girl for Soonyoung to date._

Something twists in Soonyoung’s heart, but he makes a face. _Gross, I don’t want to date Wonwoo’s cast-offs. I can get my own girls._

Wonwoo laughs. _Soonyoungie doesn’t need me for that. He has his own style._

 _I just worry about him,_ Soonyoung’s mom says. Soonyoung freezes when she turns to look at him sympathetically. _I don’t want him to be alone._

His eyes can’t help but flick over to Wonwoo, who has the most curious expression on his face—a strange mix of warmth and fondness and melancholy. _Don’t worry about Soonyoungie, auntie. No matter what happens, he lands on his feet._

Soonyoung doesn’t know what that’s supposed to mean.

He’s almost asleep later when he feels a warm body climb into the mattress next to him. His eyes flutter open, trying to adjust to the darkness.

_Wonwoo?_

Wonwoo shushes him before reaching up to draw the curtain back; the light of the moon hits Soonyoung in the face and he drapes an arm across his eyes to block the sudden brightness.

He feels a hand encircle his wrist to move his arm away. He opens his mouth but Wonwoo presses a thumb against his lips, trying to convey his message.

Soonyoung thinks he gets it.

Outside, nothing stirs, the only sound filtering in through the window being the faint sounds of crickets in the backyard trees. The tractors are quiet, and it’s hours yet before the roosters begin their morning calls.

Soonyoung inhales slowly as he feels Wonwoo’s thumb trace the outline of his lips, rub gently at the jut of his mouth. He lets him, lets the quiet from the outside engulf the both of them until his room becomes a cathedral and they are each other’s only witness. He stays still as fingers run down the bridge of his nose, carve careful paths up his cheekbones, stroke soft patterns into his scalp. He sighs when hands cup his cheeks, smiles when fingertips dip into the little valleys on the sides of his mouth. His breath stutters and he bites his lip, nose tingling, when Wonwoo feathers soft deliberate kisses all over his face: against each cheek, the tip of his nose, each eyelid, his forehead.

He opens his eyes, and it’s Wonwoo he sees, it’s Wonwoo who’s there, lying next to him, soft smile on his face and cheek pressed into the pillow. Soonyoung’s heart skips a beat. The moonlight casts a strange glow around him, but blanketed in the darkness and bathed in light, he looks beautiful, almost ethereal. He’s looking at Soonyoung with a kindness, an honesty on his face he’s never seen before.

In that moment, Soonyoung feels breathless, exposed, treasured, loved.

He leans forward, and Wonwoo meets him halfway. It’s sweet—they press their lips together softly, almost chastely, until Wonwoo draws back to lean his forehead against his.

 _I love you._ He says it so simply, so quietly, that Soonyoung doesn’t actually believe what he’s heard, is afraid he’s imagined it.

_What did you say?_

_I love you,_ Wonwoo says again. He smiles, and despite the tears that spring in his eyes, Soonyoung feels like the sun. _I’m sorry I never said it before._

 _It’s okay,_ Soonyoung says in a tiny voice. He sniffles, and Wonwoo laughs a little, low in his chest. _It’s fine. I love you too. Wonwoo-yah. I love you._ He wraps his arms around him and buries his head into his chest, trying desperately to stem the tears. He doesn’t understand why he’s crying when he’s supposed to be happy, but he is. He thinks it might have to do with relief more than anything.

He feels arms wrap around him and lips press onto the top of his head. _I’ll miss you, Soon-ah. More than anything._

 _I’ll miss you too_ , Soonyoung says, voice muffled by the cotton of Wonwoo’s shirt. He looks up, looks Wonwoo in the eye. He pretends not to see the sheen of tears in his eyes. _It’s just a month. We can do that._

Wonwoo gives him a small smile. _Yeah. We can do that._

And what comes after, Soonyoung thinks, we can do that too.

\---

Everything happens after.

Soonyoung comes home a month later with his mother to an empty house.

He frowns a little, but helps his mother take in the luggage from his uncle’s car first. He’s sure he told Wonwoo that today was the day he would be coming home, so his absence was a little strange. He hoped nothing was wrong at home.

Gyeongju was pleasant; Yeon-hee’s new house was huge, with a giant backyard that her brothers spent hours playing tag and soccer in. Naturally, Soonyoung had been tasked with the responsibility to look after them, which he took to with aplomb.

His mother had noticed how much lighter he seemed on their way to Gyeongju, and he had shrugged, trying hard not to turn red. She laughed then, and said that if she had known that the prospect of a summer vacation away was all he needed to perk up, she would have suggested it years ago.

As soon as he’s dropped off his luggage, he passes by his mother’s room to tell her he’s going over to Wonwoo’s.

He runs to Wonwoo’s house, eager to see him, and bangs against the door in his excitement.

_Oh!_

He looks up, sheepish when he sees Wonwoo’s mother at the living room, folding clothes. She drops the clothes in her hands when he trips against the screen door, her hand coming up to clutch at her chest.

_Oh, Soonyoung-ah. You startled me!_

_Sorry auntie,_ Soonyoung says. He toes off his shoes, bowing at her when he enters. _I just got back from Gyeongju and was looking for Wonwoo._

She looks at him oddly. _What do you mean, you’re looking for Wonwoo?_

Soonyoung nods, smiles. _Is he home? Or is he somewhere else?_

She starts to frown, and something about the look in her eyes sets off alarm bells in his head. She gestures at him to join her on the couch, and he sinks into the cushions.

_Soonyoung-ah… I thought he told you?_

Anxiety starts to creep up his chest, and he’s finding it hard to swallow. _Told me what?_

She snaps, talking to herself all of a sudden. _I knew it didn’t make sense when only Jihoon and Junhui were here the other day. I was looking for you but he said you were away._

_Auntie, where’s Wonwoo?_

She looks at him, almost sadly. _He’s left, Soonyoung-ah. He’s moved abroad to study, with my brother, in the United States. He’s been arranging for his transfer the whole summer._

***

Soonyoung is numb, at first.

He doesn’t quite understand what’s happening, and none of Wonwoo’s family offers him anything other than thinking that he had already known. He gets Wonwoo’s address from Bohyuk and sends him a letter. It’s a long one, a confused one, an angry one.

The letter returns months later, unopened.

He gets the returned letter around the time he’s preparing for the CSATs. He’s distracted from studying until he writes another letter, and sends it, checking and re-checking to see if the address is correct. It is.

He writes another, and another, and another, sends all of them to the same address. Junhui tells him he has to focus on studying, but Soonyoung can’t help it. It takes Jihoon snapping and marching him into the library every day to study for him to set aside his anger and finally crack open a book.

Results for the CSAT come out at the time the three letters come back to him, and he handles the disappointment of the returned letters by writing more. At this point, Junhui gently tells him that Einstein quote about doing the same thing over and over again and expecting the results to change. Jihoon promptly tells him it’s called insanity.

He also applies for an education course at the local university with Junhui. Jihoon gets grades good enough to go to a prestigious college in Seoul for law and leaves after graduation.

It’s when Soonyoung gets all five of his last letters, tied up in a neat little bundle with ‘return to sender’ in Hangul stamped across it, does he finally understand that Wonwoo isn’t interested in talking to him. The cherry blossoms are out on that day, and pairs of his classmates and friends walk under them, enjoying the atmosphere and the coming of spring. On that fine spring day, Soonyoung’s heart finally breaks.

Eventually, the pain simmers and subsides into a low ache. Eventually he stops waiting.

He enters into mandatory military service after college and he gets a job as a teacher in the local preschool afterwards. He was always good with kids.

He dates a few times, just to keep his doting mother occupied, but something always stops him from committing.

Jihoon comes home one day to visit, and he brings a girl with him.

She’s a sweet thing, is Seunghee, a tiny one with the warmest smile. Jihoon brings her home to introduce her to his parents and his friends. They’re engaged to be married, and despite all his bitterness, Soonyoung is happy for his friend.

Seunghee accompanies Jihoon’s mother to meet his other aunts, and Jihoon calls Soonyoung to tell him to meet him at the bridge. He’ll bring the alcohol.

 _How are you holding up,_ Jihoon asks, after they each open a bottle of soju.

 _Not bad,_ Soonyoung lies.

_Did you—_

_No._

(Sometime between Wonwoo’s sudden departure and their high school graduation, Jihoon managed to guess what exactly was going on between the two of them. Soonyoung wasn’t even that surprised when he had confronted him about it before he left for Seoul—Jihoon was always very sharp, and he had a front row seat to how his friendship with Wonwoo had evolved over the years. Jihoon admitted that Wonwoo had told him that he had already talked to Soonyoung before Soonyoung had left for Gyeonju and even though he and Junhui had found it strange, they never questioned it.

_We should have. I’m sorry, man._

_It’s not your fault._

_He was a dick for doing that to you,_ Jihoon had said, before he gave him one of his rare comforting back pats. Soonyoung appreciated it then.

The thing is, it didn’t get easier as years went by. The movies he watched on television always assured him that time healed all wounds but he didn’t know how it was supposed to get easier when everything just felt so unanswered. The years went by like clockwork; he went to work, had dinner with his mother, drank socially with Junhui (who was still blissfully unaware of what he had started that one afternoon at the quadrangle) and the occasional co-worker on the weekends, and lived his life with this huge question mark hanging over his head. He tried his best to shove it to the back of his mind, and eventually even his mother learned to stop giving him updates that she learned from Wonwoo’s parents of how Wonwoo was doing.

Eventually, even the dreams—of Wonwoo, young, seventeen, by his side—faded, getting folded and tucked away into the recesses of his brain he rarely accessed.)

 _Soon-ah,_ Jihoon says now, and Soonyoung jolts at the familiar nickname. _You have to move on._

_I have moved on._

Jihoon clicks his tongue and takes another sip from the bottle. He makes a face. _I still hate drinking._

_Then what are we doing here?_

_I can’t have this conversation sober,_ Jihoon replies.

Soonyoung bristles. _You don’t have to have this conversation with me. I’m fine._

_Clearly, you’re not fine. You’re angry, you’re bitter, and you’re a shell of who you were._

Something about the way Jihoon nutshells him rubs Soonyoung the wrong way. _Is this what law school taught you?_

_Stop deflecting, Jihoon retorts coolly._

_Fine, what do you want me to say?_

_That you’re ready to stop letting the past hold you back, that you’re okay, and that you’ve forgiven him._

Soonyoung furrows a brow. _What does forgiveness have to do with this? Why do I have to do that? Aren’t you a lawyer, not a therapist?_

_I’m not a full lawyer yet, not until I finish my training, and you’re right. You don’t have to take my word for anything. I just thought that it would help._

Soonyoung chuckles bitterly. _Why would you think that?_

_You’re still angry at him._

_Well fuck,_ Soonyoung laughs mirthlessly. _Why the fuck wouldn’t I be? I loved him, Jihoon-ah, and I thought he loved me too._

He stares into the distance. The Nakdonggong sparkles in the horizon, clear and constant. _He said he did,_ he admits quietly. _He said he loved me, all while he was packing his bags._

Jihoon sighs, picks at the soju label. _I don’t know how it was between you two… like that. That summer… was anything different?_

Soonyoung shrugs. He remembers the restlessness, of being constantly on the edge that he was driving Wonwoo away. In retrospect, he hates knowing he was right. _We had a big fight._

_About what?_

Soonyoung picks up a rock, throws it over the edge. _I wanted to tell my mom._

_Oh._

_What does that mean?_

_It means you’re an idiot, Soonyoung._

Soonyoung crosses his arms, offended. _How am I the idiot here?_

_You know your situations aren’t the same. You know Wonwoo’s parents—Wonwoo’s whole family—is way more traditional than your mom._

Soonyoung squirms. _We decided not to tell anyone,_ he says softly.

_Yeah, but think about it from his perspective. You know that Wonwoo would die before disappointing his parents._

Soonyoung’s face feels hot. (Wonwoo’s deep voice fills his ears as memories of that day rush through his head. _What would they think? That they raised a couple of… a couple of…_ )

_I know that._

_Soon-ah,_ Jihoon says again. _If Wonwoo had stayed, he’d be disappointing you too, because you’d never get to be with him, and he’d never get to be with you. Not in the way either of you would want._

 _Then why didn’t he just tell me?_ Soonyoung cries out all of a sudden, years of pent-up frustration and emotion evident on his face.

_I would have gone with him, Jihoon-ah. Why didn’t he tell me?_

_I don’t know. But you were his best friend. You knew him better than anyone else. He wouldn’t leave you for just any old reason._

But he still left, Soonyoung thinks, before swallowing the last of the soju.

***

Soonyoung is 25 when his mother brings home an associate of hers at the permits office, a girl named Hyejung, with long dark brown hair and a quiet but kind demeanor. He asks her out on a date, and she says yes.

He’s 26 when he proposes to Hyejung, and 27 when his mother becomes a grandmother for the first time, to a beautiful little girl named Ah-reum.

It’s right after Ah-reum’s birth, when they’re moving things around the spare room for the baby when he opens a box and sees the returned letters, and he realizes that it’s been ten years since he’s seen Wonwoo, since he’s even heard from him.

He looks up at the sound of crying. Ah-reum is in the next room, and already he hears Hyejung cooing at their daughter, trying to soothe her back to slumber. He smiles at the picture of it in his head, his quiet lovely wife and their pretty little girl, and he realizes that he’s okay, and that he hopes Wonwoo’s okay too.

 _Soonyoungie,_ Hyejung calls.

 _I’m coming,_ he replies. He sets the letters down again, staring at them for a few moments, before he closes the box and quietly puts it away.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is mostly inspired by Mamamoo's performance of 'Love Story of a Girl' [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tn7yICySgpA). 
> 
> I'm not exactly sure how obvious it is but this is supposed to be set in the early 90s, and the little town they're in is somewhere in or around the Gyeongsang region, specifically Sangju.
> 
> Thank you all for reading. This fic is something I've always wanted to write, and I'm very glad it finally exists.


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